


Mochimono

by XanderB



Category: Final Fantasy VIII
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe, Anal Sex, Gay Sex, Jealousy, Language, Lemon, Lime, M/M, OOC, Oral Sex, PWP, Romance, Sexual Harassment, Slash, Yaoi, mild violence, probably others - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-19
Updated: 2015-12-19
Packaged: 2018-05-07 13:32:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,066
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5458217
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/XanderB/pseuds/XanderB
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Seifer hates Squall's job, hates all those hands touching what belongs to him. Squall seems like he's oblivious to it all, but how oblivious is he? </p>
<p>Disclaimer: I don't own Final Fantasy VIII, or the song "Next Contestant" by Nickleback. I make no money from this.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mochimono

~I judge by what (s)he's wearing  
Just how many heads I'm tearing  
Off of assholes coming onto (her) him  
Each night seems like it's getting worse  
And I wish (s)he'd take the night off  
So I don't have to fight off  
Every asshole coming onto (her) him  
It happens every night (s)he works~

 

(Seifer)

The strobe lights and technicolor disco balls shimmer and wink as I walk through the heated crowd close behind my boyfriend. The hungry leers from the patrons don't go unnoticed by me, even though Squall seems oblivious to them all. I sigh heavily as I look him over again. I'd been doing it all night, at least since he put the damn clothes on. They should be illegal, the outfits he wears to work here. The too tight, faded denim shorts and the crop top that looks as though it should belong on a twelve year old girl instead of my nineteen year old boyfriend, show off long, lithe legs that are far too feminine for a man and a lean torso that most would kill for. He wanders through the crowd, his black combats clunking deftly on the shiny floor of the club as he weaves between the sweltering press of bodies. I growl as a hand passes over his rear. He doesn't even seem to notice.

I should have known this would happen with the revealing clothes he's got on. He's like a walking wet dream, for God's sake. I don't think he realizes that he is far too beautiful to work in a place like this; his silk-thread hair glimmers in the onslaught of light and his pouty lips look wet with the gloss he's lacquered on them. I grit my teeth as someone catcalls him. I want to turn around and rip the man's face off. I can feel my rage simmering just beneath my skin as I watch the men and women around him, their eyes tracing the most intimate of areas on his body, areas reserved for only me. 

It wasn't always this bad. When Squall first started working here, I didn't have to come with him to keep him safe, it only started progressing after a few weeks though. Then I had to start following him to and from work to keep an eye on him and the customers who harassed him. Now, I have to stay in the club for his whole shift. It just keeps getting worse. 

When I look up, he is looking at me. I shift my eyes to his and wait for him to speak, already knowing that he will be saying goodbye for now. He reaches a delicate hand up to my shirt and pulls me in close, his lips a breath away from my ear as he prepares to speak.

A shiver runs through me as his voice reaches me over the bray of the bass, “I finish at midnight. Don't pick any fights please. See you after.” he says, his low, sultry tone making me want to take him home right now and ravish him, but I know I can't. Before he can saunter away, I spin him and press my lips to his fiercely, claiming my territory to all those who might be watching, not that it will do much good. They don't seem to mind that he's spoken for.

“I'll be watching babe. Have a good time.” I say over the loudness of the music and the static of conversations. He smiles and nods, his stormy eyes warming me and making promises for later. I keep my eyes on him as he moves to disappear into the crowd and then into the staff room to grab his apron and name tag. I breathe out another sigh as he makes it without mishap and walk to my usual spot at the bar, so that I can watch him wherever he goes. I keep an eye on the door of the staff room as I wait for him to come back out. I don't wait long and then he is on his way back over in this direction. 

He greets the bartender briefly before snatching up a tray of drinks and skillfully balances it in his hands as he pushes back through the massive crowd, dropping the drinks off at various tables. I watch the customers as the interact with him, touching him and running their eyes all over his body. A wave of possessiveness shudders through me as I watch their fingers pressing their prints onto his pale, soft skin; I'll have to replace them with my own later. I hate them, all of them, especially the ones who have the gall to touch him. I wish he'd quit this place. He doesn't need the money, but he likes the bustle of this job. I grind my teeth habitually as I keep my eyes on him, watching closely for any discomfort. 

At the first sign that he's uncomfortable with the attention he's getting and I will be there to break the wrists of whatever fucker's got his slimy hands on my lover. I swallow reflexively, my long fingers curling into fist unconsciously. 

 

~They'll go and ask the DJ  
Find out just what would (s)he say  
If they all tried coming onto (her) him  
Don't they know it's never going to work  
They think they'll get inside (her) him  
With every drink they buy (her) him  
As they all try coming onto (her) him  
This time somebody's getting hurt

Here comes the next contestant~

 

I watch several of the patrons wander over to the DJ just after Squall has served their tables. I can imagine exactly what they're saying. They want to know who he is and what will he do if they buy him a drink and try to pick him up. The DJ, Raijin, smirks and looks over at me. I nod to him. He's an old friend. He just shrugs at the customers and tells them to try it and see what happens. Squall never drinks anything those creeps buy him. I watch them as they grab at him and offer him the drinks they've probably laced with something by now and he accepts them, only to bring them to the bar and have the bartender toss them down the drain. I smile triumphantly. 

The sleaze bags that hit on him every night that he's here don't seem to realize that no matter how much they try or how many times they try it, they won't ever get to take him home with them. Who do they think they are? Someone like Squall would never let someone like them into his pants. I cross my arms over my hard chest, following Squall's graceful movements with my jade eyes silently. I sip at a whiskey sour and bide my time as their hands grope at him. I'm positive that my eyes are promising death to anyone who cares to look. 

 

~Is that your hand on my (girl)boyfriend?  
Is that your hand?  
I wish you'd do it again  
I'll watch you leave here limping  
I wish you'd do it again  
I'll watch you leave here limping  
There goes the next contestant~

 

I let the anger boil as I watch the hands of men and women sliding over the moist skin of my love and I wait patiently for them to fuck up. Squall just dances out of their reach for now, but I know that soon enough one of them will lose it and they'll touch him where he doesn't want them to and I'll step in. I can't wait for that time, then I get to crack some skulls and bloody some faces. I feel a touch of adrenaline at just the prospect of kicking the shit out of even one of these losers. I grin to myself as I keep my gaze on my beautiful boy.

Squall is quick on his feet and he's graceful, even just the way he walks reminds me of a dancer. Something in my chest burns, emotions I'd rather not discuss. I shake my head slightly to clear the thoughts and take in the rest of my drink. The warmth of the whiskey leaves a heated trail down my throat and into my stomach as I swallow it down. I am about to order another, when something catches my eye.

 

~I even fear the ladies  
They're cool but twice as crazy  
Just as bad for coming on to (her) him  
Don't they know it's never going to work  
Each time (s)he bats an eyelash  
Somebody's grabbing her ass  
Everyone is coming onto (her) him  
This time somebody's getting hurt

Here comes the next contestant~

 

A woman with black hair, wearing black short shorts and a blue top has wrapped herself around Squall and has her face so close to his that I think there must not be enough air for the two of them to breathe. I know she's going to try to kiss him. He looks frightened and that's my cue. I'm up within a tenth of a second and shoving people out of my way to reach him in time. 

The bitch doesn't know what's hit her as I grab her wrist with bruising force and pull her off of my boyfriend. She screeches in protest, but I am about ready to slap her quiet. I don't get the chance because Squall is there, his cool fingers against the skin of my shoulder. I drop her wrist and she stumbles backwards, throwing curses at me. I glare at her before signaling the bouncers to come get her out of here. She's escorted out by the two burly men from the doorway and I smirk at her. I am disappointed that I didn't get to do more, but it's okay. I turn back to Squall, but he has already gone back to the bar. I heave a sigh and travel back that way myself, seating myself back where I was before. 

Squall seems to have already recovered and is passing out more drinks to these assholes. There are already more hands on him, petting, groping, teasing. I want to rip them all off, but I sit still. It seems like every time he bats an eyelash, someone new is touching him. They're always touching him, like they can't keep their limbs to themselves. Even when he's weaving through the people on the dance floor, they can't leave him be, groping and grinding him. It makes me livid and I want to kill someone. 

 

~Is that your hand on my (girl)boyfriend?  
Is that your hand?  
I wish you'd do it again  
I'll watch you leave here limping  
I wish you'd do it again  
I'll watch you leave here limping  
There goes the next contestant~

 

Finally, his break arrives. I seek him out halfway across the dance floor, grasping his slight wrist and yanking him with me through the crowd and into the seclusion of the staff washroom. It's actually clean in here and private. I need to reinstate my ownership of him. I thrust him back against the wall and crush my mouth to his, our lips meeting hungrily. He accepts me into his mouth, our tongues tagging one another as we kiss. I moan, pressing closer to him still. I am hard and I want him, but fifteen minutes isn't nearly enough time. He knows that we don't have the time but he grinds himself against me anyway, pushing his own erection against my thigh. He's panting and making incredibly erotic noises in the back of his throat. 

I manage to wriggle a hand down between us and peel open his shorts, releasing the rigid flesh of his hardened shaft. I lick my lips and wrap my fist around the burning member, stroking roughly. He moans loudly in encouragement and thrusts desperately into the channel of my fist. He won't take long to cum; he's close already, shudders of pleasure rippling over his skin. I smile into the vanilla scent of his spider web fine hair as I feel him tensing against me. His fingers curl against my shoulders, pinching and leaving reddened welts in their wake. He cries out and I feel the warmth of his seed as it dribbles down my wrist and in between my fingers. His hard on subsides and I lick the evidence of him from my fingertips. He watches me, the silver-azure of his eyes burning into me lustily. 

He's quick as he switches our positions, my back hitting the wall with a muted thunk. His lips are on mine immediately, tasting. I moan into it and I can feel his nimble fingers pulling my belt open and delving inside my pants to pull my painfully hard cock from it confines. I barely have time to take a breath when his mouth is on me. My hands are in his hair now, twisting the strands around my fingers as he sucks at my dick. I breathe hard and moan his name, encouraging him to suck harder, take more of me in. He does and I pant. 

His mouth is so hot, so moist. I can't describe what it feels like to have him using it on my cock. It's like hot chocolate on a cold day. It's so good. It's like heaven only better since I don't happen to be dead. My fingers twist within his hair as his tongue runs a trail from base to tip and back down again, swallowing me whole. I groan. I already know that I won't last.

His hands are on my hips now, holding me still as he brings me to the edge over and over before finally letting me fall over it. I cry his name harshly as I release my essence into his waiting mouth. I can see the bob of his Adam's apple as he swallows it down and I breathe heavily. He's so sexy. He looks up at me from his place on the floor and I smile down at him before pulling him up to kiss him, tasting the mingling of myself and him within my mouth as I do. 

When I let him go, he's glaring at his watch. I guess that time's up already. I tuck my half-softened cock back into my pants and re-buckle my belt quickly before helping Squall straighten his hair out. His face is flushed and the grin on his lips speaks of deviance. I kiss his collar bone, marking him with a quick nip to the sensitive flesh there before we are back out into the heat and smoke and light of the club. Squall is back to work. 

I watch Squall sauntering between tables, an obvious sensuality following him wherever he goes and I'm hating the clothing even more as all eyes fall upon him. It's like I've thrown him into the lion's den. They're all salivating with the thought of getting a taste of him. 

 

~I'm hating what (s)he's wearing  
Everybody here keeps staring  
Can't wait 'til they get what they deserve  
This somebody's getting hurt

Here comes the next contestant~

 

I don't move my gaze from Squall's body as he serves drinks. I know that the time is close to the end of his shift, maybe fifteen more minutes now. I dare not take my eyes off of him to check, so I'll just assume. The club is by no means winding down; it's still open for another two hours once Squall's done, but I'm glad, we won't be here for the end of the night crowd. I breathe in and out, forcing the air in and out of my lungs as I wait for the minutes to tick by, the hands on Squall's body blurring in my vision. I am getting more and more angry with each passing second. I can't wait to deal out their punishments for touching what's so obviously mine. 

Finally, after what seems like hours, but is really no more than ten minutes, Squall sets his tray back on the bar and wanders back into the staff room. I stand and meander over to wait for him outside the door, knowing that I am not the only one doing so. A burly, ugly brute stands across from me. He looks me over before speaking.

“Hey Blondie, good luck trying to win over that fine brunette. Hes gonna be all mine for this evening.” He grunts at me, his voice and words grating on my ears and nerves. I'm already so sick of this place. 'Squall, hurry,' I think. I turn to look at the beast of a guy.

“Is that so? Well, why don't we let him decide for himself?” I reply, full well knowing that there is absolutely no chance that Squall would even leave with a sleaze like him. 'Brute' just grunts back at me. Squall appears in the doorway, the heavy door held open by his left hand. I smile. He doesn't spare even a glance at 'brute' and immediately walks into my waiting arms. I smirk at 'brute' over Squall's head before leading my lithe lover out into the cool night air.

He cuddles close to me as we begin to walk back to our place together, my arms wrapped around him protectively as he shivers in the chilly air. We don't get too far, for there is 'brute' and a couple of his friends waiting for me at the end of the block. 

 

~Is that your hand on my (girl)boyfriend?  
Is that your hand?  
I wish you'd do it again  
I'll watch you leave here limping  
I wish you'd do it again  
I'll watch you leave here limping  
I wish you'd do it again  
Each night seems like its getting worse  
I wish you'd do it again  
This somebody's getting hurt

Here comes the next contestant~

 

I push Squall back behind me and crack my knuckles. I am only too happy to oblige these thugs with a fist fight. I can hear my lover sigh heavily from behind me as 'brute' and his friends close in on me. They throw clumsy punches that aren't hard to dodge and I crack my own fist against 'brute's' jaw, feeling and hearing the satisfying crunch of bone beneath my knuckles. 'Brute's' down on the ground already, crying about his damn jaw and his buddies want to avenge him, I suppose. I let them come at me, tripping one so that the pavement makes mincemeat out of his face. I grin at the last as he lunges at me; a well placed knee leaves him in a heap, gasping for his breath as Squall and I move back to the sidewalk and make our way back towards our apartment. 

I feel so much better now that I've gotten to release my tension from the bar. Squall is quiet as we walk, his body is cold against the warmth of my own, even with his coat on. I wrap my arms around him, providing heat. Home isn't far, thank God.

We arrive momentarily and I unlock the door, letting Squall into the warmth of the apartment ahead of me. And I am barely through the doorway when he is in my arms again. The door to the apartment closes with a soft snick as Squall all but drags me towards our bedroom, his lips refusing to leave mine. Tonight must have been a bad night. Whenever he's this eager for me, it usually means that he feels like he needs to get rid of the feel of strangers' hands, replacing their's with mine is how he wants it. 

I smile and kiss his neck lightly, letting my tongue trail down the left side, toying with the pulse beneath his skin. He shivers against me and I press him back into the mattress of our bed. His fingers are already struggling to unbuckle my belt; his hands shaking. I stop him and hold his hands within mine for a moment. 

“Calm down Squall-baby. I'm not going nowhere, what's the rush.” I say softly, undoing my belt myself and pulling my pants off, my shirt following soon after. I slowly pull off Squall's shorts, then the tiny shirt, leaving him naked under my gaze. His stormy depths look desperately into mine, begging me. I give in and lay myself on top of him, pressing my lips onto his with bruising force. I know he wants this, just like this, rough and quick to make him forget their hands.

I can deny him nothing. I have the lube in my hand within moments and am coating my fingers. Squall watches me with alluring eyes. I slowly push his thighs apart with my unlubed hand and slide my lubed fingers up the crack of his ass, finding the tight pucker of his entrance. I watch him for signs of pain as I thrust only one finger into him. He whimpers and pushes himself onto my finger. His eyes beg me, his mouth opening slightly to release heated breaths.

“Seifer... Please...” my name in his husky voice is more than I can handle and I press another finger into him, searching for his prostate, before adding the third and final finger. He arches and gasps loudly as I find what I am looking for, his body sucking my fingers in greedily and tightening around them. I smile and press the last digit to his entrance. He groans with mingled pain and pleasure, but refuses my offer to go slower. I thrust my fingers in and out of him several times, rubbing up against his prostate instinctively. His moans echo through the quiet of our apartment and I am glad that our neighbors are heavy sleepers. 

My fingers are removed and Squall wraps his legs around my waist, trying to pull me inside of him quicker. “Slow down baby, I don't want to hurt you.” I whisper lowly as I lean over him, positioning myself at the still tight ring. We don't bother with condoms since we only sleep with each other, besides Squall is allergic to the latex; ridiculous, I know. He breathes in sharply as I press into him finally. I still myself within him and he exhales slowly. Only minutes tick by before he is writhing below me, pleading for me to move. I do. I thrust into him deeply, making sure to angle myself so that I brush against his prostate as much as possible. His blunt fingernails scrape along my back, aroused shivers scuttling down my spine as his moans of my name fill my ears and his body takes all conscious thought from me.

“Seifer, harder. Remind me who I belong to.” His voice sends me into overdrive. I plow into him hard, thrusting roughly. His legs tighten around my waist and he pants harshly against my neck. I hold him painfully tight as I push him closer to his climax. I manage to get one hand around his weeping cock and stroke it quickly. He cries out loudly, his nails digging into my flesh as he shoots hot semen onto my hand for the second time this evening. I hardly notice though as his inner walls convulse around my cock. I can't possibly hold back anymore, thrusting just twice more before plunging in deep and releasing my own load within him.

I'm still inside him as I'm coming back down and I can hear him speaking to me breathlessly. I look at him, not comprehending his words. He smiles and repeats himself, “I'm going to quit the club.” His voice is soft and low in the silence of our bedroom, only our breathing can be heard. My eyes widen at that and I pull out of him before answering. 

“Are you sure?” I ask, not sure what to make of this. I wait, wrapping heavy arms around his small waist. He nods.

“I'm tired of their hands. I only want your's.” he says, his voice filled with emotion. I smile against his downy hair. 

“I love you.” I say simply, laying a swift kiss to his temple before cuddling him closer to me. 

“I love you too.” His reply is barely a breath as sleep takes him. I merely smile and close my eyes.

 

 

* Owari *

**Author's Note:**

> This is an old work, but it was fun to write then and though it's not my best, I might as well post it here the same as the rest of them. 
> 
> Reviews are always appreciated.
> 
> P.S. Mochimono means possession in Japanese in case anyone was wondering.


End file.
